07/07/2013

THE POWER OF ARTAs a visual artist and transformative art facilitator, I have long
witnessed the power of art to heal, empower, and transform. One of those
moments stands out more than the rest.

A few years ago, I was hired by The Wellness Community of Philadelphia
to design and lead a workshop for people with cancer. Because of my
extensive training in the use of arts in healthcare settings, I wanted
to make sure that everyone in the group would be able to engage fully
(and comfortably) in all the activities planned for the half-day
workshop. In fact, I specifically adapted many aspects of the session
during the planning stages: simplifying the art-making process as much
as possible; choosing easy to use and non-toxic art materials; ensuring
the room was odor and fragrance-free; and paying special attention to
the temperature and seating arrangements.

On the day of the workshop, I greeted the attendees as they began to
arrive. It was clear that several of them were currently in treatment
(radiation and/or chemotherapy) while others were many years into their
recovery. A few wore the pinched facial expressions often noticeable in
people who are experiencing physical discomfort or pain.

One older woman in particular, who was escorted in by a friend, appeared
to be in a great deal of pain. She was slightly hunched over and very
thin. It took her some time to get settled into her seat. She also
seemed distracted or bored, as if someone had to persuade her to come to
the workshop.

When the session began, there were several activities that the woman did
not participate in and I wondered to myself if she would get the full
benefit of the day if she were unable to engage in the main art-making
activity.

DREAM PILLOW
But when it was time for the group to move over to the long tables set
up for creative work, her eyes widened at the array of colorful paints,
fabrics, beads, stamps, and ribbons spread out on the table to choose
from. Although it took her some time to pick out her materials, she got
right to work on her “dream pillow”.

Because the art-making portion of the workshop would last about an hour,
I made a mental note to check on her every ten minutes or so, but by
the third “check-in”, it was obvious that she was totally engrossed in
her painting and was not having any trouble whatsoever.

As we neared the one-hour mark, the entire group was in active creation
mode, busily gluing and stamping their pillows and swaying to the upbeat
music playing in the background. Suddenly, the woman I had been
concerned about cried out “Oh, my God! My pain is gone!” Every head in
the room turned toward her. “When I came here this morning,” she said,
“I was in so much pain, but I haven’t had any pain since I started
making my pillow”.

I’ll never forget the mile-wide smile on her face and the light shining through her eyes.

You see, even though I could name research studies documenting the fact
that hospital patients who participated in bedside art activities often
requested much less pain medication and even left the hospital earlier,
it was only in that moment that I truly appreciated how deeply
rejuvenating (and perhaps even life-extending) the simplest acts of
engaging art and creativity can be.

####

Qaadira Allen is mixed media artist, educator, and transformative
art facilitator who creates powerful experiences designed to inspire,
empower, and heal. She has facilitated more than 400 transformational
group experiences in the U.S. and the Caribbean, and is the founder of
The Center for Transformative Art, where she mentors other creative
change agents who want to transform the world. For more info, visit wwww.centerfortransformativeart.com

06/09/2013

ART SAVES ... two small words, a tiny powerful phrase, close to my heart and one I know to be true.

EMPTIED
A serious automobile accident drastically changed my life overnight.
Multiple injuries including herniated discs in my neck and permanent
nerve damage led to a chronic pain condition. Working on crafts I once
adored (knitting, crocheting, painting, sewing, multi-media collage) as
well as gardening - which I was passionate about, were just too
difficult. My days instead of creating were filled with physio therapy
sessions. In a desperate effort to reduce pain, I gave each one up. Just
looking at my bookshelves filled with crafting and floral design books
proved to be too painful, and I made the difficult decision to have them
boxed up and donated to local charities. I felt, at that time, like
those bookcases ... emptied.

PLAYING CATCH UP
And then, a few years later, I spotted a book on scrapbooking while out.
I made a mental note of the author's name and googled it once home.
This in turn directed me to her blog, something totally foreign to me at
the time. One blog led to another and seeing photos and reading about
the crafts I once enjoyed sparked an interest in me once again. Very
slowly, I began introducing crafts back into my life, thinking up
creative (and at times, hilarious) ways to sit comfortably and
remembering to PACE myself. That became the hardest part, pacing myself.
Once I started it felt like I was playing catch up. I also began my own
blog shortly afterwards to share in this wonderful, creative, on-line
community. This was 2006 and I have been blogging ever since!

YOUR ONLY LIMITATION IS IMAGINATION
The positive impact creating once again spilled over into every other
part of my life. There is a very therapeutic element to creating art and
working with different textures, colours and dimensions. It helps with
flexibility, loosens tight muscles and helps focus your mind on the here
and now. Crafting serves as an incredible coping strategy giving the
mind something positive to think about. There is such a sense of
accomplishment working on and seeing a finished project. In Art, your
only limitation is imagination.

Chronic pain drains energy, but an enforced slower pace can send forth a
creative power surge. On those days when the physical act of creating
isn't possible, I use this as a quiet reflective time and keep a journal
to jot down ideas and thoughts of what I want to create. Some of my
best ideas have happened from these "down times" and it keeps me from
feeling that I have wasted yet another day due to pain.

It's sad to remember and write about "those days" but I am proud of my
own personal creative journey, and grateful looking back, at just how
far I have come.

04/09/2013

I have a Master's in Elementary Education & a license in
cosmetology. So you would think that I am a very successful person,
right? I am successful in terms of doing what I love, but something has
been in my way for many years. That something is Migraines. It has been
very difficult to keep jobs because as we all know employers don't like
it when you call in sick. Migraines are debilitating and are not like a
regular headache. Often times you can't drive or do any of the daily
activities you need to do and they can last hours.

I am a person with a lot of motivation and drive, but when you are
fighting with head pain it can make you feel depressed at times. So, I
turned to Mixed Media Art. I have always loved Art. As a child and
teenager my family painted holiday windows and signs. I could create
fluffy snowmen, and candy cane lettering in a snap. But, with the
changing economy people weren't paying for holiday designs as much.
Window signs have really declined in the past few years too. So mixed
media art allows me to create all the fun characters I grew up designing
while being in the comfort of my own art studio.

04/07/2013

The
creative process has always been a method of healing for me. When I was
a child, I wrote poems and drew pictures that told a story. As I got older, I continued with my poetry, and unfortunately found many sad things to write about in my life.

I grew up in a dismal home. For me, what really saved me was love. But love and art coincide with each other. How? It is simple: I feed that which I love. I feed my art and my poems, with love and
nurture, in a similar manner in which I care for my children, or my
body. What you feed, grows. What you love, grows.

Did you know that it is scientifically proven that an infant needs affection and love in order to thrive and grow? It is true. It is also true for anything in your life. That which you love is what saves you.
When you love your art, it heals you and saves you. I realized this truly when I became a mother. When I held my daughter in
my arms for the first time, it was truly a well of love that I was overwelmed with. Being a new mother somehow made me want to pursue my creativity again,
so after years of not doing anything remotely creative (besides
writing), I began to carve stamps, and make cards and things like that.

For me, what makes are healing is that is a sort of meditative process.
Little by little, you focus just on your project, while your creative
juices are flowing, and that process is what empowered me to heal from a
lot of the junk from my past. I became a mother again, and it convinced me that love and art truly go hand in hand.

My husband is always telling me that art is
everywhere around you. Growing up in the church, I heard that love is
all around you. I feel that these two things go hand in hand. Art is everywhere. Love is everywhere. Embrace the two, and self evolution shall come indeed.

03/24/2013

My mother was very creative and passed that on to me, I have been making
things my entire life and started making jewelry at age 5. I found my
passion in my early 20's when I moved to NYC (with only $300 to my name
and absolutely no prospects). A trip to my bank in the Park Slope area
of Brooklyn one day literally changed my life. There was a young woman
outside selling gorgeous jewelry and I stopped to see more of it, I
asked what it was made from and she told me it was polymer clay and the
technique was called millefiori and there was no paint every color was
clay. I was mesmerized by the intricate designs. Needless to say I
bought a piece and asked for earrings to match and she said she was
actually looking for someone to make earrings for her. Of course having
been making jewelry since I was 5, I offered my services.

We met up once or twice and she showed me the basics of working with
polymer clay and then ended up moving away to go to college. At that
time there weren't many brands available and the clay was hard as a rock
but I was hooked. That was in 1989 and I am still playing with the
clay. I have a book coming out in the Fall with F & W Publications
called Polymer Clay Art Jewelry, How To Make Polymer Clay Jewelry Projects Using New Techniques with my business partner Kira Slye.

Kira and I met in 2006 when I started a street team on Etsy.com to help
spread the word and share with others about polymer clay, the group is
called the Polymer Clay Artists Guild of Etsy. I
thought the group needed a website to represent us and put a call out
to the group to see if anyone was interested in helping and Kira
answered the call. After working together we realized we both lived in
FL and less than 400 miles away from each other.

I decided to purchase an Ipod for myself for the holidays and started to
download and noticed something called a podcast. I poked around to see
what they were all about and noticed there were only a few craft
podcasts and I had an idea that I wanted to create a podcast about
polymer clay and that Kira would be the person to help bring it to
fruition. We met 1/2 way between where we lived, which was Orlando, FL
and hashed out the plans for the show and on June 1st 2007 we launched
Polymer Clay TV. We have a You Tube channel with over 200 videos and we
can be found on Itunes.

We are still going strong and have since started a second show called Things Crafty and a community of about 1000 artists at http://www.craftylink.com
We have a design team of 7 women and Kira and myself. We have live craft
demos every Tuesday on our show Tuesday Shmoozeday. There is always
something fun going on and we love to share. We can't wait to see what
the future holds.

02/24/2013

MY MOMHere is a story about a mom. My mom. My best friend in the whole wide
world. When I was a kid, she did the normal mom things, like cooking
dinner and making us brush our teeth, but she also did other things. She
taught me to grow vegetables in the garden, and how to cut the
asparagus when it was ready. I still see her squatting down with that
old steak knife, surveying the asparagus stalks. She taught me that in
order to eat a healthy meal, there needed to be a lot of color on your
plate. She also taught me to have a lot of color in my life! She showed
me how to live openly, be yourself, and that home was your safe place.
She also taught me to break the rules sometimes, and just have fun. I
remember one day in middle school, she checked me out of school, and
told me we were taking a road trip to the beach. We stopped for a dozen
glazed doughnuts and then headed for a distant beach in our old ratty
convertible car. It was one of the best days of my life.

THE MOVE TO CHARLESTON
Fast forward a few years. I'm out of college and my mom and I are still
very close. We speak on the phone every day, even though she lives in a
different city. My then-boyfriend (soon to be husband) and I decided to
move to Charleston, SC, and 6 months later, my mom also moved to
Charleston. While I was worried about the close proximity, it turned out
to be one of the best things that had ever happened.

My mother had done a lot of oil painting when I was younger, but it had
been so long since she had picked up a brush. I had the thought to get
her a gift for Christmas - real painting lessons. When I told her about
it, she paused, and said, "you know, I think I'd rather take a pottery
class". And then I paused, and said, "Wow, that sounds cool, can I take
it with you???" And that it was it!! We never looked back. Our pottery
class turned out to be not so great, on the teaching side of things, but
it was enough to get us hooked on clay. It wasn't long before we
purchased a wheel, then two wheels, and then a kiln and a slab-roller.
Oh man, we were in business!!! It didn't matter how cold or how hot it
was, or how many mosquitos bit us while we were throwing (since our
"studio" was in an unheated building outside) we made pots. And we made
more pots. We made pots until we were overflowing with pottery, and then
it was time to sell. We started doing retail shows together all the
time. We traveled to different states, stayed in a variety of hotels,
doing lots of good and bad shows. Each one is a precious, precious
memory.

STAGE 4
Then, all of a sudden, things changed. We were driving to a show in
Florida in early 2008, and my mom got confused on the road. She didn't
know how to drive, or how to handle the fork in the road. I knew then,
that something was very, very wrong. Not long after that, she was
diagnosed with cancer. Stage 4, in the lungs and in the brain. The
tumors, all 40+ of them, are what caused her to forget how to drive that
day. I was 5 months pregnant with my first daughter.

10 months later, my mom passed away. I had a 5 month old baby, and I
struggled each day. I went through the blackest time in my life. When I
should have been celebrating life, I was struggling with death and
depression. I stopped doing anything creative whatsoever, and just tried
to make it through each day.

THE FORMS I WANT
When I ever so slowly began to come out of my fog, I knew that I was
almost ready to go back to the studio. I also knew that my pottery work
was going to change dramatically. Hugely. Finally, the day came when I
was ready to try it. I sat down at my work table and let my hands just
sort of play. And birds came out! This was good; it felt right. I kept
making birds, and then I realized how I could manipulate them to show
emotion and concept, and I could use birds to express everything that
had happened in my heart. I never went back to my wheel. I still have my
wheel though, and I will use it when friends want to play, or if my
daughters want to try it. But I am done throwing. It doesn't suit my
patience anymore. It feels better to slap, squeeze, and squish the clay
into forms that I want. I work intuitively sometimes, other times I have
a sketch I use.

I started making bird sculptures, and I felt a tiny release each time.
Sometimes I cried while I worked, and other times it made my heart
happy, but it was what I needed. All of it. So I started focusing on my
sculpture. Letting go of all the functional pottery I had made in the
past. It was done.

That was 4 years ago. I'm still loving my sculpture process, and my
birds. I am excited each time I get to go to my studio and be with them.
So now, looking back on that time in my life, it's no exaggeration to
say that it was THE life-changer of my life. All at once, I became an
orphan, a mother, and a sculptor.

01/13/2013

I have always loved art, and it's always been a pretty big part of my
life but there was a time when art helped save my life. In high school I
became very depressed in the midst of family problems, an abusive
boyfriend, school stresses, and a borderline eating disorder. I didn't
know how to deal with all these problems and I learned to shut out all
emotion. Sometimes not feeling anything is worse than feeling sad.
That's when I started cutting in an attempt to feel something, anything.
I had to break through the numbness I was living in. Knowing that
cutting was bad I tried other things to get my mind off of the negative
things around me. That's when I ran to art.

Drawing helped me escape my
messed up world and create my own. Art gave me the opportunity to create
the things I wanted to see. Since that time art has become a life saver
in many ways. When I'm feeling down I get out my sketchbook or grab a
canvas and some paints. It has become a way for me to express myself,
and a way to communicate my ideas with others. Art is no longer a way
for me to feel, it's a way for me to create my vision for life in a way
that others may also see.

12/08/2012

Has your life been changed by the power of art for good? is the
Crescendoh question that catches my eye as I browse Jenny's site. As I
begin to reflect on it, my mind drifts back through 50 years.

I AM 6
I am 6, seated in front of the TV with my shoe box of crayolas,
construction paper and a few paper doilies. Captain Kangaroo takes down
his own shoe box of crafty goodness and begins today's project. I cut,
paste and color my way through this, and countless other mornings
happily "pretending" to be an artist.

HIGH SCHOOL
My mind fast forwards to high school art class. Little has changed
really, in my world of art. The crayolas have changed to clay and paint
perhaps but the feeling of "pretending" to be an artist is much the
same. It's the 70s and everywhere you look, color and styles scream "do
your own thing." It's thrilling just to be experimenting with beads and
decoupage and this new "express yourself" person I am becoming enjoys
all of it.

THE 80s
I blink and it's the 80s ... As I plan my wedding and move to the farm, I
busy myself decorating my new home with stenciling, needlework and
quilted creations, once again "pretending" to be a bonafide artist
injecting a bit of myself into this new way of life. In a few years, we
add a little boy to our family, but the charmed Beaver Cleaver life I've
lived up until now, screeches to a halt. There is a problem and this
child is "handicapped." Art takes a decided back seat to daily
maintenance and doctor's visits. When time allows however, I pull out
that shoebox of craftiness, now a closet of paints, ribbons, fabrics,
paper and other assorted finds, and escape the weariness of worry with a
bit of cutting and pasting. As he grows, I delight in the "artwork"
sent home in his little pre-school bag place there by caring therapists
and teachers...the traced hand-turkeys and carefully strung macaroni
necklaces.

SHOEBOX SITS
But once again, life takes an unexpected turn, and the object of our
love and attention is taken from us suddenly. The inconsolable grief has
us in it's grip. The shoebox sits untouched on the closet shelf. Months
and months pass and I realize if I am to have any semblance of normalcy
return to my life I have to make an attempt to move forward.

Out comes the shoebox once again in the form of a small gift basket
business. Ever-so-slowly, glimpses of joy return as I source goodies and
craft doo dads I know will be fun to receive in these brightly wrapped
baskets. More years pass and I am pregnant but forced to spend my last
10 weeks horizontal on my sofa with only infomercials and fear for
company. The shoebox comes out this time in the form of handsewing and
doodling. Soon, our son is born healthy and happy but much more
interested in tractors and cows than paints and paper. A second one
follows and the true joys of motherhood, homework, play and farming
intervenes. Once again the shoebox sits lonely on the shelf. But then an
idea forms in the back of my mind.

In my "spare" time, I frequent thrift shops buying up unwanted treasures
tossed out by those who cannot "see" the potential that lies dormant in
the piece. My now-retired handy-man father and I re-purpose these finds
into funky "art." My sweet spouse makes a huge concession allowing me
the use of a barn in which to hold sporatic sales of these now desirable
finds. I channel my 1970s self by painting and sewing and hammering and
building with 2 small but willing helpers. Wildly popular, these sales
scratch my creative itch for a number of years as I "play artist" once
again.

ART HAS BEEN A CONSTANT
It's now been over 50 years since that 6 year old first opened the
shoebox. The little helpers are now grown. The shoebox is now taking the
form of children's picture books. It's so exciting to have a new
project. Next year I will have the pleasure of seeing three of my
picture books published. So I ask myself the question Jenny asks...How
has your life been changed by the power of art? For me, art has been a
constant...like faith, family and friends, always steady, always
changing but always there waiting to be lovingly taken down off the
shelf. I think Captain Kangaroo would approve.

11/04/2012

DEPRESSIONThe power of art helped save my life. My story isn't about a struggle
with alcohol, or drug addiction – but another kind of soul sucking
addiction - depression. It sounds so cliché for an artist to suffer
with depression, but it's a very real, debilitating condition that can
affect anyone anywhere. I think of depression as an addiction because as
the negative thought processes infiltrate daily life, it is extremely
difficult to get back to "normal." It’s like being sucked into a tar pit
up to your chin. So you succumb to the patterns that come with
depression like not eating, and sleeping all the time.

MIRACULOUS MARRIAGE
I've always been creative ever since I was a kid, spending vast amounts
of time drawing, painting, doodling, making 'pictures' on construction
paper to sell to cars at the neighborhood stop sign. As I grew into my
teen years, depression hit hard. My family thought it was me being surly and rebellious but, looking back, it was more than that. Black
moods were something I couldn’t control. As I grew older, I found ways
of coping. In art school I focused on deadlines, and a full time job
which supported my schooling. Ironically, as busy as I was, depression
manifested itself into a year long eating disorder. During that strange
time, I also met and fell in love with another artist. The relationship
didn't last very long, but the outcome of a painful break-up heightened
depression to new and dangerous levels. I suffered through twelve years
of dark, foggy days, and hours upon hours of feeling heavy inside and
out. Inspiration and desire to paint took the back seat kicking and
screaming because I didn't have the energy to create. Miraculously,
during those dark days, I met and married my incredible husband.

BOXED AWAY
But even happily married and starting a new life in a new town,
depression was still a huge daily battle. It manifested itself in
tremendous migraines, and days at a time spent hiding in our bedroom. I
don't know how my husband handled it, but he supported me through it.
Finally, after being convinced I needed medication, I went to the
doctor. Medication helped and took the edge off, but it wasn't a soul
saving cure. During those years, my beloved art supplies, books, and
desire to make things were boxed away in our basement.

SMEARED PAINT
When I turned thirty-eight, something happened. I think it was FORTY
looming on the horizon. I decided the time had come to go back to my
artistic roots. Four years later, which brings me to today – I am no
longer depressed! In fact, I am a new woman! Creating art, getting paint
smeared all over my hands and forearms, and staying up late to play on
canvas was a life saver. A true colorful passion restored and renewed my
life. I have found my wings and have not stopped flying since I put
pigment to paper in 2010. Do I still battle depression? Sometimes – but
it feels different now. Lighter. Manageable. Controlled. I can power
through it just by showing up to my studio and starting the process of
creating.

The power of art has made miraculous changes in my life. I am happier.
My marriage is healthier. And although I keep a close check on my
depression, I can honestly say I have never been happier in life then I
am today.

09/02/2012

My son, 23 month old son Archer, was diagnosed with a rare and fatal
genetic disorder in March. Although devastated I felt and overwhelming
desire to do something, to fight this disorder with everything I had.
And so, Art for Archer was born. I call it "a unique celebration of
art". Art for Archer will be held on October 20, 2012 in Meridian, MS.
AFA will offer an arts/crafts sale, make n' take crafts for kids, and
artists demonstrations. AFA has given me something to do in a nearly
helpless situation. I am not only organizing AFA, but I am creating
pieces for it as well. This creating has given me a way to fight for
Archer.